Not worth the effort
by Northoftheroad
Summary: Written for the DickandDamiweek 2019. Theme: Rain. Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing. Crossposted at AO3


Rainwater puddles glistening in the cold light from the surrounding buildings. That was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. In the clear water, there were wisps of darkness – coloured by blood. His blood.

Damian shut his eyes and collected his thoughts. The man he had followed had managed to cut him in the thigh; he remembered that. Something was aching in his forehead, and there was a feeling of something warm and sticky in his face – perhaps blood from a wound, perhaps bleeding from his nose or mouth.

He was in no immediate danger. He would not bleed out from the cut; the blood hadn't been running freely when he continued the pursuit, before he tried to make the jump between two industrial buildings but had failed to reach all the way, and tumbled down to the ground.

Of course, he was an expert in how to break a fall; but a hard impact been unavoidable and he had lost consciousness for a moment. Now he felt drained, his body a mass of pain, his head foggy while the blood was slowly seeping into the rainwater around him.

He would catch his breath and rest, just for a little while. As wet as he already were, another few minutes wouldn't make a difference. Then he would force himself to rise and find his way back. Surely he would be able to walk, after the rest.

There was no alternative. Damian was fairly certain the communications device in his belt had been destroyed in the fall. It would be difficult for his associate to locate him.

He felt a nagging doubt that Grayson would even make much of an effort to find him. The man's life would be simpler if he could offer Drake the position of Robin back, after all.

The newly minted Red Robin had clearly shown his opposition to being forced to leave the junior position in the partnership that was Batman and Robin. Grayson would be happy to get a chance to mend that bridge… He would get the opportunity to work with someone he knew and trusted – and loved.

He felt a nagging doubt that he was worth the stand-in Batman's effort, too. He had made mistakes, after all. Being overconfident, distracted, let himself be wounded and, finally, let his prey get away from him.

Father would be disappointed. He could imagine the man's face, frowning with those well-known furrows between the eyebrows and tightness around the mouth.

And Mother… She had wanted him to learn from his father and grow into a worthy heir. Instead, he had lost Father and could not even keep up with the circus boy that was Wayne's first chosen heir.

Yes, Mother would be disappointed, too.

No one would question if Grayson found him too late. It wasn't the first time the new Robin had slipped away to challenge the Gotham underground, after all, and been close to death thanks to his impulsive actions.

No one would question if Grayson didn't hurry.

He never even knew that the man was approaching over the rooftops. Not until the swooshing sound of a cape traversing air reached his ears and seconds later, the new Batman made a soft landing some yards in front of him.

Damn the man; he could have landed further away, to avoid those extra water drops to splash over him. But Damian pressed his mouth shut and didn't speak. Neither did his mentor, who swiftly moved to Damian's side and crouched.

The hands of the new Batman felt all over Damian's body, checking for injuries. Seemingly satisfied, the man withdrew his hands for a few seconds. Damian experienced a strange feeling of loss, but then he felt a wet gauntlet on the top of his head and a voice, much too gentle to come from the cowled head, asked, "How do you feel, Robin? Do you think it's safe to move you? I can't find any injuries that should prevent it, but you know best."

Damian hesitated for a second; then he slowly and carefully tried to move one part of his body after the other. He had a headache, and his back hurt where he had landed, the knife wound in his thigh pulsated in pain and the possible cut in his forehead was stinging. But he could feel all his limbs, and he did not think he had any broken bones.

"It is safe," he decided, whispering.

Grayson's hand moved a bit on top of Damian's head, and he replied in a low voice, "Good. Up you go, then," before picking him up. His mentor moved him around in his arms until Damian was settled in what the man probably deemed as comfortable a position as possible, with his head resting in the crock of the man's neck.

"Okay there?"

He clicked his tongue in reply to the stupid question. Of course, it wasn't okay – he had failed, he was sore all over and felt acute pain in several body parts, and now he had to suffer the indignity of being carried like a baby. But he would endure and come back stronger and better…

Grayson seemed to interpret the sound as a go-ahead and started walking. Damian concentrated on keeping as still as possible and tried to fix his thoughts on his mistakes and how he could learn from them. He wanted to avoid lingering on the feeling of being curled up in his new guardian's arms or thinking about the inappropriate scolding that the man was surely going to give him once he was home and deemed safe.

But when they closed on the Batmobile, he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"How did you find me?"

The man in the Batsuit chuckled – Damian could feel the puffs of air on his scalp. It was an odd sound coming from someone in the guise of The Dark Knight.

"Batman never reveals where he hides all his trackers, Robin. I've learned that the hard way."

Damian knew he should be affronted. That he should raise objections to being tracked like a pet, deemed too irresponsible to be left without supervision.

To his shame, the feeling that first crossed his mind first was relief. Relief that Grayson thought he was worthy of keeping an eye on.

That his Batman wanted to protect him.


End file.
